The Strangest Thing
by AragothwinElfBlade
Summary: Horatio's doppelganger and his partner get arrested in Miami. No OC, promise!
1. Welcome to Miami

A/N: For those of you who haven't seen _Proof of Life_ this story will make no sense. In _Proof _David Caruso plays the K&R (kidnap and ransom) expert Dino across from Russell Crowe (Terry Thorne). Dino is a womanizing, sarcastic, friendly (relatively), smart-ass who works with Terry. At the end of the movie they make plans to start a K&R firm together.

* * *

"I told you this was a bad idea," Terry sighed to Dino as he lounged on the uncomfortable cot inside the cell. "We should have stayed in the Caymens rather than fly up to Miami..."

Rolling his eyes, Dino interrupted, "Because it's easier to get into trouble in the U.S. I know Thorne. You've been repeating yourself for the last hour." A spring poked into his side and he shifted towards the wall. "Admit she was worth it."

Terry mumbled something that didn't sound like a compliment. Knowing his friend would clam up and sulk Dino rolled over and tried to get some sleep. In a few more hours, Terry would forgive him. Then they would figure out way to talk themselves out of this. Or, more accurately, Dino would do the fast-talking with Terry filling in the blanks.

The cell was warm and it was easy to doze off. Especially because Terry was doing that rhythmic breathing thing that Dino could always identify him by.

Sulking, Terry watched the rise and fall of Dino's chest. The last retrieval had been too close for his liking. Dino had taken a shot gun round to the chest. Digging chunks of lead out of the man hadn't been fun as it involved listening to Dino cuss up and down at everything in sight.

With a sigh, he gave up trying to be annoyed with his red-headed friend. A resigned expression eased the tension on his face. The red-head was incorrigible and Terry liked him that way, though he'd never admit it aloud. This trip was supposed to be a wind down for the two of them. But Dino had caught the eye of an attractive woman in the hotel they were staying at. Not unusual, but the woman was apparently the trophy wife of a local politician. Hence, their current residence.

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Terry asked the sleeping man affectionately. His only reply was a soft snore. "She was worth it," Terry admitted, confident Dino couldn't hear to say 'I told you so.' "But you are going to be paying for that punch to the mouth. Those splits on your knuckles will hurt like hell."

There was a soft whooshing noise as the door to the cell opened. Terry kicked Dino's pallet hard enough to wake the other man. Muttering, Dino sat up scrubbing the sleep from his eyes to look up at the cop who'd come to retrieve them. "Holy shit."

Did Dino have a doppelganger he wasn't aware of? Terry was pretty sure that was a no. And judging by the look on the red-head's face, this was a surprise for him as well. Well, Terry's red-head, because the cop was a red-head too. And a dead ringer for the more the more exuberant K&R specialist. "Dino," Terry asked with strained patience, "is there something you want to tell me?"

CSICSICSICSICSICSI

When Tripp and Speed had walked into his office looking like they had seen a ghost, Horatio had been puzzled. When Speed had told him, quote, "The prep is your twin brother," he'd honestly thought the younger man was joking. His eyes were telling him different.

There were two men in the cell. One was dark-haired, attractive in the same scruffy fashion as Speed, except paler. He was awake and watching the other man with an exasperated expression. The sleeping man was the reason Speed had claimed to have lost years of his life.

Red hair, widow's peak, startled blue eyes, they were identical. The stranger expressed himself first. "Holy shit." His friend made a strangled comment that Horatio didn't quite hear in his surprise.

"Who exactly are you?" Horatio asked coolly.

Looking at him like he was crazy, Horatio's doppelganger offered, "Richard Beverly. This is my friend Thomas Smith." And Horatio was James Dean. "There seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding at the hotel we where staying at. Perhaps we can talk when we get this all cleared up." 'Beverly' tried to smooth over the awkwardness of the situation.

Clearing his throat, Horatio explained, "That's what I'm here about. In light of the situation, the charges against you and Mr. Smith have been dropped. However," he hesitated, "I'd like to check your identification again."

"Bloody hell," 'Smith' sighed. "What is it with you Americans and your paper work?"

Laughing, 'Beverly' patted his friends arm. "It's not Americans, it's our government. Democracy, freedom, justice, and all that good shit."

Putting his hands on his hips, Horatio insisted, "Papers?"

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"I need a drink," Terry groaned as he and Dino walked out of the station.

Snorting, Dino pointed out, "I'm the one who just discovered my long lost twin."

Dead serious, Terry turned. "Yeah, but now I know there's two of you in the world. Frankly, that scares the living shit out of me."

The comment made Dino pout. "Come on, Ter," he whined, "you're a bastard but you love me anyways."

Terry just groaned and headed towards the nearest club. He needed a drink, and he needed it now.

CSICSICSICSICSICSI

Calleigh paced the lab, talking to Speed. "I don't know what's more frightening, the fact the guy looks like H, or the fact he's so different from H."

Grunting, the trace expert responded, "The world does not need two Horatio Caines. The intensity would probably cause a collapse in the time-space continuum."

The woman rolled her eyes. She hated not having the answers.

CSICSICSICSICSICSI

If Horatio had been a drinking man, this would have been a good time to reach for the bottle. Apparently 'Beverly' and 'Smith' were clean. Too clean. The wrongness nagged at him. There was a lot more to those two than old friends on vacation, and he itched to get his hands on their real identities. The fact 'Beverly' could be his brother was just an added incentive for his curiosity.

* * *

A/N2: This is my first CSI: Miami fic. I'd not a big fan of the show, but this ficcy wouldn't go away.


	2. It's That Bad

A/N: The continued adventures (mayham) of Dino, Terry, and Miami's top CSIs.

* * *

Dino had never let Terry drink alone, and wasn't about to start. Terry had walked into the first place that looked like it might serve palatable alcohol. Of course, considering the man was former SAS and Australian the term was relative. Rather than risk his taste buds on the coolant they called whiskey, Dino ordered a generic beer and watched his friend down two shots in rapid succession. Idly, the red-head commented, "It can't be that bad." 

"It's worse," his usually unflappable partner replied despondently.

Rolling his eyes, Dino muttered, "Now who's over-reacting." Terry made a face at him and began working on his own beer. The two snarked back and forth. Dino's words were more artistic and graceful, Terry was blunt. Both shared the sarcastic tone. They were so involved in their verbal one-up-manship that neither did more than register the four young Latinos that entered.

When the shooting started, they responded. Seizing the silk shirt, Terry heaved Dino over the wooden bar before he followed, assisted by Dino yanking on his belt. Behind the cover, they both drew their weapons and returned fire. In a matter of seconds the less experienced attackers were down. Shaking slightly, Dino remained crouched behind the bar. Turning to Terry, he demanded, "What the fuck was that?"

A stoic shrug of Terry's shoulders hid how startled the man really was. He blew out at deep breath then looked at the red-head. "They were after us."

"Shit." Dino's vicious statement expressed both men's feelings. In tandem, they moved from behind the bar, sweeping the area with their guns. They covered each other with the ease that came from practice in every situation imaginable. Terry covered Dino while he checked the men. Two were dead, one was so far gone there was no point in trying to save him, and the fourth was conscious. His dark eyes stared up at the two men, looking like a frightened rabbit.

Holstering his weapon, Dino kneeled over the kid. He looked imposing to the young Latino, red-hair awry and blue eyes sparkling with rage. "Why were you shooting at us?" he asked in a deceptively friendly tone.

Understanding the implied threat, the kid swallowed nervously and stammered out in broken English, "There is a contract out on your head Senor Caine, quinientos mil American dollars for your body." Terry growled his displeasure. "We were just trying to make good on it."

"So you shot me?" Dino sounded pissed. "Brilliant. Look, I'm not Caine, okay. So you and your friends can just stay the fuck away from me." He shook the kid, "Clear?"

Frantically, the kid nodded. "Si, Senor. You are not Caine. I should stay away from you." Dino seized his shirt and hauled him to his feet. "And I should leave now," he finished nervously limping out of the bar.

Terry gave a long groan. "You know," he said wearily, "that word is going to get that Caine killed these guys. And Caine is going to find out and know it was us and make our lives miserable." He slammed his gun back into its holster.

Shrugging, Dino replied, "Let's get out of here before he shows up." His grin was the one that drove Terry straight up the wall and over it.

"I'm going to let them shoot you next time," Terry promised darkly as the two walked out of the bar and blended in with the rest of the crowd. "Before my mind goes completely walkabout." Dino just laughed and slung his arm around his friend's shoulders.

CSICSICSICSI

"Well," Speed announced unhappily, "the bartender's lips are sealed tighter than Delko's wetsuit. The old one." Eric muttered something unflattering under his breath.

Horatio wasn't really listening. Behind the lenses of his sunglasses, his gaze was focused on the floor. "Speed," he said slowly, "what are we missing."

The darker man shrugged and commented scathingly, "Decent funding? Seriously," he followed his boss's line of sight. "We're missing a victim. There's four distinct blood pools, but only three bodies."

Putting his hands on his hips, Horatio asked, "Victim or shooter?"

"Victim," Calleigh said firmly. "The three vics were carrying uzis. Those use 9mm shells. I've got casings from .45s and .32s." She displayed one of the brass cups on the end of her pencil. "Also," she gestured at the bodies. "Whoever did this knew what they were doing. Double tap in the heart, one in the head. I'm thinking professionals."

Speed kneeled next to her. "Two shooters?"

A crisp nod. "At least."

There was a muffled yelp, then Eric appeared from under the bar with a piece of cloth in his forceps. "Hey, H, take a look at this."

Pulling on a pair latex gloves, Horatio accepted the fragment of cloth. "Silk? Blue silk with embroidery in the same shade of blue. Hmm."

"That's like the shirt your twin was wearing," Speed commented digging out an envelope for it.

A queer smile appeared on Horatio's lips. "I think we need to pay Mr. Beverly and his friend a visit."


End file.
